


In The End

by domniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domniall/pseuds/domniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never really saw it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The End

**Author's Note:**

> Little blurb written for Allyssa who wanted "zarry idk just create something."

Harry had lifted, shifted, and tied his hair back for the tenth time he was sitting in the same spot. The couch was beginning to warm underneath him and his thighs felt clammy in his thin jeans. He just wanted to see him. He just wanted to look at him. He thought to distract himself; he flicked through the stations on the telly but nothing but shit afternoon programming, he skimmed through the magazine left on the side table but there was nothing but gossip and slander that wasn’t worth his time, he checked his phone and though only a few minutes had past since the last text he sent him, it felt like he’d been waiting for days.

When he woke up, he couldn’t imagine this date would mean something. It was another day, it was another early morning for work. He had already left, had taken his things. He was probably going to visit his mother since she was in town for something. He didn’t leave a note, or a text, but he never does.

The door opened up and it was locked from earlier, so Harry forced himself from his seat with the heavy weight hanging over him. His hands come to rest on his hips, not in a condescending manner, but he just needed to put them somewhere. He needed to touch something. He needed to touch him.

The fair skinned boy’s face was a mess of hurt and a hint of anger when Harry was finally able to see it.

“Why didn’t you say something…” Harry trailed off with, barely above a whisper.

Zayn shook his head before tossing his bag down onto the floor near the couch. “It’s not that easy.”

“Oh, so telling us, _me_ , through a fucking email was good enough?” Harry spat, his accent thick with the tears that had fallen already. More were flooding now in the back of his eyes.

“Because I didn’t want to see you guys like this.” Zayn’s eyes closed, or he just looked down. Harry couldn’t tell with his eyes welled up. “I didn’t want to.. look at you like this. I just.. I just thought you’d be angry by now. I thought the tears.. they’d be gone. I could deal with you angry, just not like this.” His sentence ended with him almost breathless while looking at the sight of Harry’s red cheeks and wet eyes.

“I love you.”

“Harry, that can’t stop me.” Zayn took a step closer to the boy that was just standing there.

“Tell me that it’s not because of me, because of us.” Harry spoke softly. “Tell me you.. you still want me.” He hiccuped.

“Of course.” He spoke breathlessly before closing the gap between them. Zayn brought his hands up to take a firm, yet gentle hold of Harry’s face and he pressed a teeth knocking kiss against his lips. Harry’s hands found onto the grey material of Zayn’s jumper and held onto him. He held onto him like he never has before through their kiss.

“Why?” Harry mumbled, his tears spilling down over his chin and jaw. Zayn didn’t want to see him like this.

“Because of them.. I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live like this anymore. I want to be _normal_ , Harry. I’m not like you, I’m not like the boys. You’re _made_ for it.”

“You’re still our Zayn, yeah?” Harry tried to crack a smile, something, but it just made him break down more.

“Course.. always.” Zayn nodded to his tearful boyfriend. “Still my boys, still my Harry.”

Harry nodded again and finally let go of the death grip he had on Zayn’s jumper and instead of letting him go, his arms snaked around him to hold onto his waist with the same hold. Zayn’s hands slid down and was wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry buried his face into the other’s shoulder once they had settled.

“Whatever makes you happy, I’m here for you.. so are they.” Zayn just kept nodding, never thanking Allah enough that he was blessed with the friends he had.

“When is it official?”

“Tomorrow…” Zayn trailed off.

Harry hated the number 25 ever since then.


End file.
